


When evening falls

by Broadripple



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Post loss blues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12936894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broadripple/pseuds/Broadripple
Summary: Nate hates losing. Tyson tries to cheer him up.





	When evening falls

**Author's Note:**

> Nate's post game [interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-Q07MQrm4U&feature=%20) after the Sabres game made me a little sad.

Tyson reached over, towel in hand, to wipe the blood of off Nate’s face. He knew it was going to be a difficult night when Nate shied away from him.

 “I was just going to get that for you.”

 Nate stared at him blankly.

 “The blood, on your nose. I was just going to wipe it off.”

Nate took the towel and scrubbed at his face, which only made it bleed more. Tyson backed off and left Nate to it. For all his talk of getting more even keel it was still blindingly obvious that losses hit him hard.

 

When they got in the car Nate turned his music way up, making it clear he didn’t want to talk. Nate still looked pissed off when they got home,  stomping off upstairs as soon as they got in the door. He could let it out here, without an audience, or upsetting the rookies.

 Tyson headed into the dining room for his own brand of post game therapy - calling his Dad. By the time he got done Nate was changed into his sweats and laid out on his side on the couch watching a replay.

Tyson sat on the arm of the sofa by Nate’s head and petted his hair, cautiously. He got a little grunt of acknowledgement.

“Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” Tyson asked, after a couple of minutes, “Maybe you should shoot some zombies or something. Think about something else, you know we’re going to see all of the fuck ups, in slo-mo.”

Nate’s response was a whine that Tyson understood as ‘no’.

“Ok, how about I blow you then?”

 “Nah, not now.”

The rejection didn’t really sting, winning got Nate hot: losing certainly did not. But actual words was progress. So was Nate sitting up so Tyson could slide down onto the couch.

Nate rolled onto his back and pillowed his head on Tyson’s lap.  Tyson kept petting Nate’s hair. Not that Nate would ever admit that he really liked it. But Tyson knew he did. It was only if he was super touchy that Nate would swat his hand away.

“Just sucks.” Nate eventually mumbled.

“Yeah, I know.” There wasn’t much else to say. Nate didn’t care well he played, how many of their chances were down to him, or how many points he got if they didn’t win. Even pointing out he’d scored, _twice_ wasn’t going to help.

“Why isn’t it enough? I can’t...” Nate trailed off, leaving Tyson to guess what he meant, Might be about motivating the team, could be scoring the third goals they needed or being able to win the game through force of will alone

“Needs to be all of us. It’s not all on you.” But they both knew it kind of was ‘Your top guys have got to be your top guys’, or whatever it was they said.  

On the TV there was another bad sequence. Mistake after mistake. 

“Should open a fucking bakery.”

“Just a bad night. _Let it go._ ”

Nate sighed obnoxiously, loud and deep. Tyson started rubbing the tight muscles at the top of Nate’s shoulders, digging and squeezing with his thumbs.

 “Nothing more you could do. Nothing at all you can do about it now. _Stop_.”

 Nate was looking up at him more than he was looking at the TV, although they could still hear the play-by-play of misery. The tension was bleeding out of Nate, little by little, until he yawned.

“Come on, let's go to bed. Gotta fly tomorrow, I haven’t packed, and I know you didn’t yet either.” Tyson didn’t mention where they were going, he wasn’t looking forward to Tampa, and Nate didn’t even have catching up with Jo to think about.

He poked Nate in the neck until he got to his feet grumbling. Tyson switched off the TV with a buzz of satisfaction, he really didn’t want to wallow in that much more. There would be plenty of time for that tomorrow.

At least there was going to be some good things happening tomorrow, Gabe coming back would help. He’d been around but him playing would lighten the burden on Nate a little. Tyson hoped he’d helped a little,at least for now.

Tyson took Nate’s hand and led the way up stairs. Once they were settled in bed, Nate warm against his back,breath loud in his ear, Tyson felt like he could finally leave the game behind him. He could just focus on Nate’s arms holding him tight and forget everything but them, for a little while.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tyson does talk about calling his Dad after games [here](https://www.nhl.com/avalanche/video/lexus-memory-barrie-influence/t-277437098/c-48285503=).


End file.
